


Stuck

by bucky_at_bedtime



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, bucky's arm is his wingman
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-25
Updated: 2018-08-25
Packaged: 2019-07-02 13:54:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15797892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bucky_at_bedtime/pseuds/bucky_at_bedtime
Summary: You and Bucky get stuck together when his arm malfunctions





	Stuck

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote more fluff because why the hell not?? It’s also longer than most of my fics and I’m pretty proud. Follow me on Tumblr @bucky-at-bedtime to read more of my fics!

It was all calculated. Fast fists flying through the air, grabbing, kicking, pulling. You felt yourself falling and twisted, catching yourself and using the leverage to swing your legs out. He fell, but was up too quickly and threw a jab, missing your shoulder as you ducked and spun underneath, throwing your elbow into his stomach.

It was a Saturday afternoon and the compound was almost completely empty - all that remained were a few of the Avengers who had nothing better to do on a weekend, thus including you and Bucky, who were seemingly two of the most anti-social people in the entire world. You decided to spend a few hours training - usually a fun way to pass the time.

Short puffs of air escaped his lungs and you felt your own chest tightening with the effort. Your heartbeat seemed to pulse throughout your entire body. You could feel it in your fingertips. But you kept pushing.

He reached around your body, pulling you towards him, his metal hand tightening around your wrist as he prepared to throw you on to the padded ground. You braced yourself for impact - the ground may have been padded, but you still ended up with bruises after every training session. But the move never hit. You twisted, his arms were still gripping your body tightly, but you managed to see his face. His eyebrows were drawn together in confusion and his mouth opened slightly, as if he wanted to say something, but he wasn’t sure what.

“You alright, dude? You forget how to fight or something?” The music that had been pumping in the gym muted itself immediately at the sound of your voice, and you shot Bucky a quizzical look.

“I–” he stopped, his arms releasing you but his metal hand remained tightly around your right wrist. He continued to stare blankly at his hand, or your wrist, or both, and you gently tried to shake him off. “I’m stuck” he finally mumbled, sounding confused by his own words.

“You’re gonna have to clarify what you mean, Buck.” You furrowed your eyebrows and stared up at him expectantly, but he just kept looking at the point of connection between the two of you. “Stuck with what? D’you need help with a move? Are you–”

Your eyes widened in realisation and he finally pulled his stare from his hand, meeting your eyes as panic filled them. “You’re stuck on my arm?!” you exclaimed, shaking your arm vigorously in a week attempt to get him off.

His cool fingers remained unmoved, still tight around your wrist. His eyes flickered down and then back up again, going back and forth for a few seconds as your other hand came up to try and pry the metal away. You couldn’t be stuck to Bucky - not now. You were just starting to get over the frankly ridiculous schoolyard crush you had on the man, and this level of closeness for an extended period of time, would not be helpful in your cause.

“You– Can you slip your hand out?” he asked timidly. His flesh hand was clenching and unclenching subconsciously as he tried to make the metal hand listen. His eyes were full of regret and you knew this was causing horrible thoughts to arise from his past. You needed to get his arm fixed.

“Not without breaking my thumb.” you gripped his metal wrist with your free hand and you could feel the metal plates twitching. You pulled his wrist back as you pulled your own arm towards you, but it just caused a mild ache and even more frustration.

“What do you usually do when it does this?” you grumbled, throwing your free hand up in exasperation.

“This hasn’t happened before - but usually Tony does all the work on my arm,” he muttered, looking helplessly at the ground.

“Tony,” you stated. “Of course. Let’s go.”

You surged towards the edge of the boxing ring, quickly ducking underneath the ropes, but realising the error in your ways when you jolted to a halt, Bucky’s arm pulling back against your skin. Somehow, in your haste to get to Tony’s workroom, you had tangled your’s and Bucky’s arm around the ropes of the boxing ring.

_“Oh my god,”_ you mumbled to yourself. You saw the first signs of a smile twist onto Bucky’s lips and rolled your eyes in amusement. “Ok, d’you reckon Tony would mind if I cut these freaking ropes?”

You heard the chuckle escaping Bucky’s lips and looked up at him, allowing your own smile to reach your face.

“Just… here you crouch down and I’ll–” He maneuvered himself underneath a few ropes and you blinked in slight disbelief when he stood up straight, somehow escaping the horrible trap of stretchy rope. “There we go,” he mumbled, and began to walk towards the exit.

You chuckled lightly, following along and smiling at how this looked - almost as if he was holding your hand as you wandered through the nearly-empty halls. You felt your heart swell at even the thought, and internally groaned at the feeling. You really needed to get him off you.

When you reached the door of Tony’s workshop, Bucky pushed it open, only to find darkness clouding the benches and a stillness that could only mean one thing - Tony isn’t here.

“FRIDAY, Where’s Tony?” you asked the empty room, already dreading the answer - you knew if he wasn’t here, he most likely wasn’t anywhere near the compound.

**“Tony is with Miss Pots in Paris, France. He has asked not to be disturbed.”**

“France?!” You exclaimed forgetting for a moment that your hand was connected to Bucky’s and attempting to run your hands through your hair.

You turned towards him, an expectant look in your eyes. He looked back at you, eyes once again filled with anguish. “Do you think you could fix it?” you asked gently.

He shook his head, almost imperceptibly. “No– I mean, maybe, but I haven’t…” he trailed off, looking down at the arm with anguish and surveying the faulty plates. You looked up at him, attempting to comfort him with a gentle smile.

He sighed. “I’m scared I’ll do the wrong thing and it’ll… I’m scared I’ll hurt you.” The last words were almost a whisper and his eyes averted down to his shoes, ashamed.

“Ok,” you mumbled, the fingers from your free hand coming up to gently brush against his metal wrist, an attempt at comfort. “Ok, That’s ok, you don’t have to. FRIDAY, when will Tony be back?”

**“Tomorrow morning. Shall I let him know you need to see him when he gets back?”**

“Yeah, thanks FRIDAY.” You turned back to Bucky. “Alright, I guess we’re just… uh, stuck like this until– until tomorrow morning.”

“I’m sorry, doll,”

There they were, the shivers that run up your spine had become an all-too-familiar feeling when it came to him and as you stared into his eyes, captured by how much emotion was running through the blue of his irises right now.

“I didn’t mean to– god I hate this fuckin’ thing” he mumbled, shaking the metal arm weekly in an attempt to get it to work again.

“It’s alright, Bucky, seriously, we’re basically alone in the compound anyway, we can just– spend the night watching movies and we won’t even notice that we’re literally connected. We’ll probably just do what we were going to do anyway.” You were already pulling him out of the workshop as you spoke, heading towards the kitchen. He followed after you, not that he had a choice, a smile still hidden behind his doubt.

“We’re gonna need snacks. And I swear to god, if you need to pee you can _hold it._ ”

He laughed at that, shaking his head in your direction. “Same goes for you, doll.”

“Deal.”

Moments later, the two of you were sitting close together on a large couch whilst ‘Django: Unchained’ played on a massive screen.

“Woah, this movie is brutal,” he stated, staring at the screen wide-eyed as crazy amounts of blood splattered across the scene.

“You realise what your job is, right?” you asked, amused by his surprise.

“Well, yeah– but I have never seen so much violence in a film. Let alone this much blood. This is just unrealistic.”

“Yeah - because we watch movies for their realism Mr.‘Star Trek: Beyond was the greatest movie ever.’” Your words were laced with sarcasm as you looked over at him, sending a bright smile his way.

“Fair point,” he chuckled.

At that point, you couldn’t help but glance down at his metal fingers, the metal now warm from your skin. If a feeling could echo, that’s what it felt like as your heartbeat rung out against the metal. He shifted slightly on the couch, obviously uncomfortable in his current position - as were you - but you couldn’t exactly lay on opposite sides of the couch right now. You had a _situation._

“Ok, look, if we’re gonna be comfortable, I have a feeling we’re gonna need to be uncomfortably close.”

His were slightly wide with the statement, but he nodded gently, looking at you cluelessly.

“If I– If I put–” you gave up on explaining almost immediately, instead just flopping down so that your back was pressed up against his chest and pulling his metal arm so it wrapped around your shoulders, your own arm crossed you chest so that the metal hand was able to rest just below your shoulder.

The cool metal pressed against your shoulders and the back of your neck, sending a shiver through your bones. His body was stiff behind you, like if he moved he would disturb your comfort.

“Sorry, it’s cold I–”

“Buck, it’s okay. Relax.”

It took a few moments, but you finally felt him relax behind you, his body sinking into the plush couch as your body sunk further into him. You knew now, that you had brought this all upon yourself, but with his warm chest pressed up against your back, you knew you weren’t getting over this crush anytime soon.

After all the time you had spent convincing yourself that you couldn’t like Bucky, _you simply couldn’t,_ something happened that forces you even closer to the man and your heart takes over again. The thoughts that you had been blocking out for months were all coming back at full-force - his hands on your skin, his eyes on your face, his lips on your own. It was all you could think about and the movie was passing without you even realising time had gone by.

“You okay, doll?” his warm breath hit your ear and you jolted out of your thoughts, blinking rapidly as you turned to look at him.

“Yeah– yeah all good. All good.” You stuttered, shaking your head slightly in an attempt to get him out of your head. You knew it was gonna take more than that, and you bit down on your bottom lip, thinking about how long it was gonna take to get over this little incident.

“You sure? You were like, completely zoned out,” he murmured, his unoccupied fingers reaching up and brushing a hair from your cheek.

You felt your chest tighten as you looked into his concerned eyes, getting lost in the muted blue of his irises. You squeezed your eyes shut for a brief moment, turning back to face the screen as you mumbled a lie; “Yeah, all good.”

It was almost 1am when you found yourself falling asleep. Since then, you and Bucky had somehow maneuvered so that you were spooning, his metal arm still connected to your wrist and lying limply across your waist. ‘Creed,’ one of your favourite movies was playing on the screen, but your eyes were resisting the world of the awake, your heavy eyelids closing in protest of the late hour.

“Sweetheart, we gotta get you to bed.” His breath was warm on your ear again, and you were too drowsy to acknowledge the new nickname that had escaped his lips. You hummed quietly in agreement and he pulled you up, switching the tv off and heading towards the door, leaving a mess of blankets and food wrappers behind.

His metal fingers were still wrapped around your wrist like a vice, but the way he walked closer to you, his shoulder brushing against your own, his face tilted toward you to watch you yawn, a smile spread across his lips - it all felt so real, like maybe he wasn’t stuck, it was just a weird way of holding your hand.

He stopped abruptly when he reached the hallway, his brows suddenly pulled together in an unspoken question. His head jolted to you, and then back down the hallway, and then back to you, his bottom lip caught between his teeth.

“Uhh… your room or my room?” he asked gently, a mild blush spreading across his cheeks at the question.

“Yours is closer,” you mumbled, dragging him down the hall towards his room. You were on a mission to get to bed, and the awkwardness of this situation was not going to stop you.

When you arrived in his room, you immediately crawled under the covers, forcing him to come along with you. A blush was still spread across his cheeks as he attempted to get comfortable, but with his hand clasped around your wrist, it was difficult.

He adjusted a few more times, switching from on his side, to on his back and back again, causing you to let out a giggle at his anguish.

“Don’t laugh at me,” he chuckled, turning to look at you.

You weren’t sure why, but you started to laugh more, the hilarity of this situation bursting from your chest in fits of uncontrollable giggling. It didn’t take long for Bucky to start laughing too, his eyes crinkled in amusement, a huge smile stretched across his face.

You laughed until your stomach hurt, and tears rolled down the side of his face, the darkness of the room lit up with the sound of your amusement. Somehow, you hadn’t realised how funny this was before.

Finally, the laughter ceased, tapering away into gentle smiles as the two of you subconsciously shuffled closer to each other, your hands resting between your bodies. You could feel his breath on your cheeks and watched as he pulled his bottom lip between his teeth. You couldn’t help but think about how you wished that was your lip. His free hand rested lazily on your hip, his fingers moving gently so you could feel the pressure through your leggings.

“Y’know, I always thought when we slept together it would be different.” Bucky’s voice was almost a whisper, and you snorted in laughter again at his words. His eyes widened innocently at the innuendo and he shook his head immediately. “I didn’t– I didn’t mean… Oh my god.”

“Wait, what did you mean?” your brows pulled together when you looked past the innuendo and still didn’t understand what he was saying. “When we slept together?”

“I- I just meant that– with my arm, I thought…” he trailed off, unsure how to explain what he had said. He hadn’t meant to say it, it just slipped out and suddenly he was regretting it very much. “Can’t control my arm or my mouth” he muttered to himself.

“Bucky, what did you mean?” you asked again, your voice shaking with anticipation – did he want this as much as you did?

“Look, Y/n, I– I don’t know if you can tell… I mean, I don’t know if flirting works the same as it did in the 40s but I–”

It was at that exact moment that his hand came loose, his fingers raised from your wrist, one by one and he watched in relief as your wrist was freed from his grasp. You gasped in relief at the feeling of freedom, rolling onto your back so you could stretch your arm out.

He also rolled away, sitting on the edge of the bed as the arm reset itself, falling to his side whilst each plat individually clicked in and out of place. He tenderly placed a hand over his shoulder, feeling the metal as he unclenched and clenched his fingers, in control once again.

“Thank god,” he mumbled to himself, letting out a shaky sigh of relief.

The room fell silent, and you knew he wasn’t planning on continuing whatever he was trying to say. You stood up, clearing your throat awkwardly and wandering towards the door. “I guess, I’ll uh… head to bed then,” you mumbled, gesturing towards the hallway.

“Um yeah, I guess you should.” He stood up, still avoiding eye contact.

As you turned to walk away, you felt his cool fingers clap around your wrist once more and pull you back towards him.

“I swear to god James Buchanan Barnes if your hand is stu-“

He pressed his lips to yours before you could finish the sentence, pulling you gently back into the room and kicking the door closed. You responded immediately, your hands tangling in his hair as you felt your chest bursting with excitement.

“I meant something like that,” he mumbled as he pulled away, keeping his forehead pressed against yours.

**Author's Note:**

> Follow me on Tumblr @bucky-at-bedtime to read more of my fics!


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